


Bellarke oneshots

by lum0smylife



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5245154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lum0smylife/pseuds/lum0smylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a collection of Bellarke drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Bellarke oneshot, so please be kind. I'm still experimenting with this pairing (writing wise.) In which I use the prompt "Bellarke+Write something that takes place in a high school history class."

“I am become death; destroyer of the world.” Clarke let the words hang in the air, observing the cloud of dust booming into the air. Raven’s bomb. “It’s Oppenheimer,” she informed, being met by Bellamy’s silence. “The man who built the first-”

“I know who Oppenheimer is,” Bellamy interrupted with a smug smile on his face, feeling the need to reassert his history knowledge. He glanced back at Clarke, who reverted her eyes back to the cloud; the conversation sounding all too familiar.

\---

Bellamy had excelled at history amongst all things. That usually meant spending half an hour after class, alone in his history class, hunched over a textbook. Mr Thompson usually let him anyway. Didn’t mind finding notes sprawled across the whiteboard, as long as he left the room in a neat condition. Bellamy’s sessions usually involved absorbing all the facts, all the stories he could tell Octavia that night. Stories of Augustus and Octavia just weren’t going to cut it now.

When the alarm screamed 16:30, he scrambled to his feet and began to put away his things. 

“Erm, excuse me?” a voice called from the door. “Have you seen Mr. Thompson?” Bellamy looked up to find a blonde, dressed in blue, hover by the door. He shook his head and put on his back pack.

“But he should be coming back from a meeting in about ten minutes,” he said, watching the blonde throw her head back, clearly annoyed by the new found information. She sighed under her breath and seated herself, muttering something along the lines of “it wasn’t even my fault” “Well’s is the one who insisted on watching Star Wars” “as if I even had a choice.”

Bellamy frowned at her confusing words, and made his way towards the door. Glancing over the words on her page, he said, “Hey, that’s Oppenheimer.” He glanced back up at her confused face. “Oppenheimer? I am become death; destroyer of the world?” She continued to blink blankly at him.

He reached over to her page, tapping the third question on her sheet. “The answers Oppenheimer,” he whispered. “He’s the man who built the first nuclear weapon during the Grounder’s Second World War.”

“Oh,” she said, leaning back. She nodded as she wrote the answer down. “Thanks,-”

“Bellamy,” he interrupted, pushing himself off the table. “You’re welcome, Princess,” he said, as he closed the door.

“Actually, it’s Clarke!” he heard her call through the door.


	2. Bellarke!Roomates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the roomate au "I just opened the front door to the sound of barking and you are just sitting on the couch with this stupid grin - wait a minute what is that in your lap? OHMUY GOD PLEASE DON’T TELL ME YOU BOUGHT A FUCKING DOG" from tumblr. Enjoy!

Clarke felt every limb, every bone, and every muscle in her body ache with exhaustion from her night shift. Things had gotten a bit crazy, two of the nurses weren’t in and she had to cover their shifts. Suddenly her morning shift had turned into a whole day shift too. Besides she was in med school, she needed the money. 

Rubbing her eyes, Clarke made her way down the corridor towards her apartment, mentally preparing herself for whatever chaos Bellamy had in store for her. Octavia, her previous roommate, had recently moved out to live with her boyfriend Lincoln, and now her brother, Bellamy, was both unemployed and homeless, and needed a place to crash. 

Things had been difficult at first. There was still tension between them from their terrible high school days love-hate friendship. But Clarke had to admit that their relationship had gotten better, both of them having partially matured over the years. Things could still be much better if he wasn’t so annoying with his smug smile, pompous air and sassy remarks. All Clarke needed right now was sleep, not a sass master.

Searching for her keys, she huffed and muttered words of calm as she turned the key into place, once found. Taking a second for herself, Clarke blinked blankly and sighed heavily. “You can do this,” she whispered. “Just go straight to your bed and go to sleep.” Nodding to herself, Clarke opened the door to find-

“A dog?!” Clarke yelled, her voice booming across her apartment, hailing the smug attention of a stupid smug bastard with a stupid dog on his lap.

“Hey Princess,” Bellamy smiled, saluting her slightly from the couch. Yet Clarke continued to stare at the black corgi perched on Bellamy’s lap. 

Blinking furiously, Clarke dug her nails into her palms. “You bought a fucking dog?!” she yelled, disbelief dripping from her words. Her mind was going to explode.

A smug smile spread across Bellamy’s face as he turned to look at the corgi once again. “Yeah,” he said with enough mirth to piss Clarke off and stroked its fur. “Isn’t he cute?” 

Clarke whimpered slightly and took a step forward, slamming the door behind her. “Bellamy, we can’t afford a dog. We’re already one month behind rent!” she cried, her voice getting tauter by the second.

“But he’s so adorable,” Bellamy said, holding the dog up in front of his face and making little waving motions. “You can’t say no to this face.”

“I can so no to this face if he’s going to cost me. A lot.” Clarke hissed, dropping her things by the door. “You don’t get it do you?” she yelled, moving in front of him so every word could be heard. “We’re already neck high in bills. We’re behind in paying rent. And the freaking groceries you buy cost a hoot!”

“They’re for my body. In order to train others, I must train myself,” he muttered, though he was slowly rising the effect of his jokes wasn’t helping.

“I am trying so hard to get my life together. I am behind in school. I cover more stupid shifts at the hospital to make up for your end of the deal. I try so hard to fix your stupid mistakes and you keep on messing up!” Her eyes started to water, and before Clarke knew it, she had dropped to the ground, in a hysteria of angry sobs. The day’s exhaustion, lack of food and sleep deprivation had finally caught up with her.

Bellamy’s face softened. He hadn’t realised he had been such a burden to her. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he crouched in front of her, cross-legged and serious. “Clarke,” he whispered, his voice low and gentle, as he gently removed his hand from her shoulder. “He’s O’s. The dog is Octavia’s. Not ours. Lincoln and Octavia’s. She’s going on a weekend road trip with Lincoln, and asked me to take care of him.”

Clarke stills, as the words settle in her mind and she feels her anger dissipate. “Oh,” she mumbled, blinking blankly through wet lashes. “She never mentioned him before…”

“That’s because she only bought him today. Figures, they’re on one adventure after the other. Dropped him off in the morning, but you didn’t make it home for lunch, so I had no choice but to agree before they left,” he explained, watching her eyes fall to the ground, as the embarrassment settled in. 

A second passes and he can feel her partial guilt and unapologetic honesty radiate off of her. Sighing heavily, he untangled her hands from the fidgeting mess they were becoming, and said, “Look, you’re right.” 

Clarke snorted under her breath, as he clenched his jaw. “Not all the time, but in this instance you are. I have been slacking recently,” he said, being careful to find the right words.   
“It’s just…I’ve had to look after people my whole life. It’s been one turmoil after another. A never ending job. And I just wanted a break. A chance to be young, free and reckless again. I wanted to know what that was like,” Bellamy said, his voice quietening. “I didn’t know how much of an impact it was having on you. I’m sorry.”

Clarke pursed her lips and nodded a little as she absorbed his worked. “We all have baggage Bellamy. But we learn to live with it,” she said, through wet lashes. “Having fun doesn’t mean you forget about the people around you or your responsibilities. It means enjoying yourself despite all those things.”

Bellamy stared back at her, as her words sunk in. “Take me for example,” Clarke quipped. “I have to deal with you all day, and I still manage to be the funniest person in this room.”

Bellamy snorted and cocked his brow. “I don’t think watching Grey’s Anatomy counts as number one on the fun list.”

“Shut up, you love that show,” Clarke said, whacking him playfully on the arm.

“How to get away with murder is better,” Bellamy argued. 

Clarke raised her brows and leaned back in offense, “who made who cry now?”

Bellamy hung his head low for a second, admitting fault. “You’re right. I haven’t been fair to you. I’ll try to start picking up the slack from now on.” Clarke rose her brow, questioning his authenticity. “Besides, I got the job at the youth centre from the other day.”

Clarke sat up straight, her face brightened with shock. “The one teaching high school kids self-defence?” she asked, her eyes as wide as tennis balls. Bellamy nodded his head slightly, and averted his gaze to the ground at her joy.

“It’s temporary of course,” he mumbled, “but if I get into the head teacher’s good books maybe I’ll get round to teaching history someday.”

“Bellamy Blake. History buff,” Clarke teased, a bubble of laughter escaping them both.

“Something like that,” he mumbled, tracing non-existent small shapes on the ground. Clarke watched him like that for a while, as they both absorbed the silence.

“Looks like Gustus wants some attention,” Bellamy said, finally breaking the silence as the corgi nuzzled against his arms. 

“Gustus?” Clarke asked, her brows raised in an all too knowing manner. “As in Augustus and Octavia?”

“Yes, as in Augustus and Octavia,” Bellamy replied, pulling Gustus into his hands. “Looks like Princess has been paying attention to my stories.” 

“You wish, Blake,” Clarke muttered, scrambling onto her feet. “It’ll be a long time before I listen to anything you say.”

“You already do,” Bellamy said teasingly. “Night Princess,” he called, too invested in playing with Gustus’ to notice her stare as she leaves the room. It lasts barely for a second, before Clarke turned around, rubbing her eyes with a sloppy smile and stories of Augustus and Octavia filling her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this lil' oneshot. I'm still fairly new to writing Bellarke, so it's a learning process. Let me know what you think. You can find me under 'biglittlebluebox' on tumblr.


End file.
